


play it cool

by suckhwas



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, cawllection, flexible yeosang, gay panic except its more like horny panic, seonghwa is a disaster as per usual, why do we all like to forget that he was a cheerleader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-01-07 07:31:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18406007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suckhwas/pseuds/suckhwas
Summary: Then, Yeosang effortlessly drops into the splits, and Seonghwa’s soul escapes his body.





	play it cool

**Author's Note:**

> god i swear i'm working on things that are not just pwp but ... here we are again. lmao hope u enjoy!!! :3
> 
> title is monsta x's play it cool, which, fun fact, is on my smut writing playlist

“Yeosang-ssi, we’ve been told you used to be a cheerleader?”

“Yes, in high school, I was.”

“Ah, will you show us a routine?” The host asks. 

Seonghwa blinks his tired eyes, struggling to pay attention. He knows going on variety shows is important during promotions and that the fans enjoy it, but it’s not exactly the most enjoyable to sit through a bunch of games and silly questions about their ‘special talents’ or whatever the hell when he’s exhausted from prerecordings and practice. Still, he puts on the most awake and interested expression he can muster.

“Uh, yes, of course,” The group ooh’s and ahh’s as Yeosang stands. “I don’t remember any routines exactly, but I can … freestyle something?”

He stands at the center of the semicircle they’re sitting in, and there’s a small smile on his face as he nervously wrings his hands. Seonghwa feels a little bad. Yeosang is not exactly the type to volunteer to do silly variety activities, and luck must not have been on his side today to get picked as the target of the hosts’ embarrassment. Seonghwa can see him steel himself and take a deep breath.

"Okay!" Yeosang says brightly with a clap, like someone hit a switch in his brain. He counts to three with a clap and little bounce on each number. Then, he’s jumping and gesturing enthusiastically as if there were pompoms in his hands, while spelling out ATINY. 

It’s… actually really cute. Incredibly endearing, really. Seonghwa figures he shouldn’t be that surprised, basically everything Yeosang does is cute. He resists the urge to coo as Yeosang finishes cheering with his hands on his hips and a sweet smile, nervousness seemingly gone. 

Then, he effortlessly drops into the splits, and Seonghwa’s soul escapes his body.

He can’t even hear the rambunctious yelling and cheering of his group mates nor the impressed “ _ohh_ ”-ing of their hosts, his brain static as he tries to comprehend what he’s looking at.

Oh god. How is Yeosang so flexible? How has he not noticed this before? Seonghwa could probably bend him in half– Fuck. Jesus christ. Why is his brain immediately going there. Where the _hell_ is this coming from.

Seonghwa manages to keep his mouth closed and clap along with everyone else as Yeosang stands and bows before returning to his seat, lips pursed in embarrassment from the attention. 

Well, he’s certainly not fighting to stay awake anymore, instead preoccupied with keeping his thoughts away from the part of his brain that’ll make him pop a boner on a live fucking broadcast. God, this is depraved. Seonghwa prays for death–or at least for filming to end soon so he can shamefully jerk off once they’re back in the dorms.

 

* * *

 

Seonghwa _does_ shamefully jerk off in the shower later that night, and it mostly just serves to make him feel gross, rather than curbing any of the inappropriate thoughts about how flexible Yeosang can be that are running unchecked in his brain. 

The thoughts get worse, in fact, as Seonghwa is now hyper-aware of every move Yeosang makes, searching for how the _hell_ he didn’t notice how fucking bendy Yeosang is. Seonghwa knew, distantly, that Yeosang used to be a cheerleader but what exactly that _implied_ somehow never registered. He’s in hell. 

Seonghwa’s not sure how he missed it, because now it’s all he notices. Yeosang folding himself at an angle that’d be uncomfortable for anyone else in order to lay his head in someone’s lap. Yeosang casually propping his foot up against something much higher than necessary to tie his shoes. Yeosang bending straight over to pick something up off the ground without needing to crouch. (Well–really they can _all_ bend and touch the ground but _god_ does Yeosang have to do it right in Seonghwa’s line of sight?)

It’s worst when everyone is stretching before and after dance practice. Yeosang bending over and putting his hands flat on the ground. Yeosang sitting with his legs spread in a wide V and reaching towards his toes. (This too, they can all do when they warmup, but Yeosang can reach far past his toes, to where his chest is nearly hitting the ground. Once, Yeosang even asks San to press against his back to push him further, and he ends up flat on the floor, bent in half. Literally bent in half. Seonghwa almost falls over from where he’s on one leg doing quad stretches.)

When Wooyoung manages to goad Yeosang into doing the splits again during one night’s practice, Seonghwa considers walking out of the room right then and there. Yeosang complains at the request, cheeks pink, but Seonghwa _swears_ that Yeosang turns to look at him with a smile before dropping into the splits without a hint of a strain on his face, much to Wooyoung’s delight and Seonghwa’s absolute horror.

He’s losing his mind. His head is a constant stream of indecent thoughts about Yeosang and his godforsaken flexibility. Seonghwa is afraid that one of these days he’ll pop a boner during practice and have to leave the country in shame.

It’s after another one of those night practices, a couple weeks after the _Splits Incident_ , when they’re just stretching to cool down after a several-hour long dance practice. Yunho and Mingi are the first to leave and head back to the dorm–still all energy and laughs somehow as they challenge each other to a race for the first shower–and the rest of the members slowly start to follow, trickling out of the building to make the short walk home. Seonghwa is usually last to leave– he likes to take his time stretching out after a long practice.

Seonghwa would like to say he didn’t notice Yeosang was the last person in the room with him, but he’s been painfully aware of Yeosang’s every move for weeks. Really, he’d been trying to not stare at Yeosang doing his own cool-down routine.

“Hyung,” Yeosang says from where he’s sitting with his legs spread again, torso bent to one side and reaching towards a foot with both hands. Seonghwa tries to keep his eyes trained at his own reflection in the mirror. “Will you help me stretch?

Seonghwa tries to not look panicked at the request. Fuck. He can’t say no, that’d be suspicious, and probably make Yeosang feel bad. (Somehow the thought of accidentally hurting Yeosang’s feelings is worse than the thousand other ways his brain imagines that this situation can go poorly.) He briefly considers pretending he didn’t hear and just bolting out of the door, but instead he drops the arm he was stretching across his chest and walks over to where Yeosang is sitting.

“Yeah, of course,” Seonghwa says, trying to steel himself to put his _hands_ on Yeosang. God, he is not okay. “What do you need me to do?”

Yeosang sits up from where he’s bent to the side, and starts bending forwards between his spread legs. Yeosang’s voice is perfectly calm, a counterpoint to literally every emotion Seonghwa is feeling right now. “Can you push down on my back?”

Oh, great. _Literally_ bending him in half. Of _course_ that’s the stretch Yeosang wants help with. Just his goddamn luck. Seonghwa has a duty to be a good, helpful hyung though, and takes a deep breath.

“Like this?” Seonghwa asks as kneels behind Yeosang, putting his hands on Yeosang’s shoulder blades to press him down lightly. He hopes his hands aren’t shaking.

“Yeah, but harder, hyung. Like all the way against the ground.” Yeosang says, and Seonghwa’s brain shorts out thinking about how much he’d want to hear that again, but in a _much_ different context. God. Fuck his horrible brain and all wildly inappropriate images that just flashed through his mind. He _cannot_ pop a boner right now. He is _not_ going to. He refuses. 

Seonghwa starts counting backwards from 100 as a distraction as he slowly presses Yeosang all the way down to the ground.

_One hundred, ninety-nine, ninety-eight–_

The grunt Yeosang makes once he’s bent completely in half almost makes Seonghwa’s sad attempt at distracting himself fly out the window, much in the same way he wishes he could do to himself. His hell is over soon enough though, as Yeosang pushes back up into a sitting position just a few moments later.

Oh, nevermind. Seonghwa spoke too soon–he’s still in hell, because Yeosang rolls onto his back and pulls a knee up towards his chest.

“Will you push my leg back?” Yeosang asks, blinking up at Seonghwa innocently. Seonghwa heaves a deep breath and complies with a forced smile that he hopes doesn’t look like a grimace, placing both hands on Yeosang’s shin to press Yeosang’s leg back towards his chest. 

Yeosang groans once his thigh is flush against his chest. Seonghwa wants to die.

“ _Mmph_ , thanks hyung. My hamstrings have been really sore lately,” Yeosang says, casually making conversation as if Seonghwa is not currently kneeling between his legs and holding them open while going through approximately his eleventh crisis since practice began.

“It’s no problem.” Seonghwa is trying to be as casual as Yeosang sounds. He’s not sure if it’s working.

“Here, can we do both?” Yeosang says, already pulling his other leg up towards his chest. Seonghwa just nods dumbly. He’s not sure he’s capable of speech right now. He repositions his hold on Yeosang’s legs, with one hand on the back of each thigh just under Yeosang’s knees and pressing towards his chest. 

Yeosang lets out a pleased sigh once both legs are pressed against his chest, effectively folding him in half once more. Seonghwa can’t look. He’s just barely winning the fight against getting inappropriately hard, he _cannot_ watch himself fold Yeosang into a goddamn pretzel. He looks over at the wall, only to end up staring back at himself in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Oh right, they’re in a practice room. Fuck.

From this angle in the mirror, Seonghwa feels a new wave of horror wash over him as he takes in the position they’re in. In no way would anything about this be explainable if someone walked back into the room, at all. His crotch is horrifyingly close to Yeosang’s ass. He’d barely have to move at all to press their hips together, press Yeosang hard against the ground–like Yeosang _asked_ –and grind against him. 

And he wants to. He wants to _so_ bad. He can feel himself getting hard in his track pants, and tears his eyes away from the mirror to look up at the ceiling. How fucking long does Yeosang need to stretch for? Seonghwa tries to resume his counting. _Sixty-seven, sixty-six, sixty-five–_

“Hyung, are you okay?” Yeosang asks.

No, Seonghwa is not okay. He has not been okay for _weeks_ but he is especially not okay in this moment, holding Yeosang against the floor and a breath away from rubbing off against his ass. He takes a deep breath.

“I-I’m fine, Yeosang-ah, don’t worry,” Seonghwa lies through his teeth. He knows his face is red but he only faltered once, so he’ll call it a win.

“Are you sure?” Yeosang’s voice is low, nearly a whisper. Seonghwa still can’t bring himself to look down. Yeosang clears his throat. “It’s okay if you’re… not. If you’re not fine.”

Seonghwa’s eyes fly open. What the _hell_ is going on. He looks down at Yeosang who’s lying on his back, knees against his chest with a pretty pink blush on his face and his dark pupils blown wide. 

Oh fuck.

“Oh fuck,” Seonghwa breathes out.

“Yeah hyung, that’s the idea.” Yeosang quips, though he sounds a bit breathless, too. He wiggles his hips to scoot closer to Seonghwa, who is incapable of doing anything but staring dumbly at Yeosang’s flushed face. Yeosang pushes his legs out of Seonghwa’s hold to wrap around his waist, which finally brings Seonghwa back to reality.

“What– did you plan this?” Seonghwa asks. His hands start moving over Yeosang’s thighs to his torso and back down, seemingly without permission from his brain. He’s not even sure if his brain understands what’s happening yet. Yeosang squirms under the touch.

“ _Yes_ , hyung. I’ve been watching you check me out for weeks, it was driving me crazy,” Yeosang’s legs tighten their hold on Seonghwa’s waist. “Did you not notice? I was trying to show off.”

_God_. Seonghwa can hardly believe what he’s hearing. This is every manic fantasy he’s thought up these past weeks coming true at once. He can’t even bring himself to be mad that Yeosang has apparently been putting him through hell _on purpose_. He digs his fingers into Yeosang’s hips. When did he start breathing so heavily? “I didn’t… I didn’t realize.”

Yeosang chuckles at that, but Seonghwa doesn’t wait for him to say anything else before he presses forward to connect their lips, _finally_ , bracing one hand on the floor next to Yeosang’s head and cupping his face with the other. Yeosang kisses back immediately, legs tightening around Seonghwa’s hips and twisting both hands in the front of Seonghwa’s hoodie.

Seonghwa groans. Yeosang’s mouth is so wet and soft against him. His knees hurt from where they dig into the floor but the hot press of Yeosang’s body against his is enough to shove that to the back of his mind. 

The kiss is filthy, Yeosang pressing his tongue into Seonghwa’s mouth with a shameless moan and pushing his hips up. Seonghwa moves his hand from Yeosang’s face to his waist, pulling him closer and rocking his hips against Yeosang.

Yeosang pulls back with a gasp. His lips are red and slick. 

“Are you,” He heaves a breath, “Are you gonna fuck me?”

“Wh–What?” Seonghwa manages to say between breaths. Most of his blood has long since gone south, but his head is clear enough to realize that they’re in a _practice room_ and don’t exactly have what they would need to make that happen. “I don’t– I don’t have anything for that.”

“I do, in my bag,” Yeosang gestures towards the corner of the room before bringing his heated gaze back to Seonghwa’s face. “Only if you want to.”

God, does he want to, holy shit. 

Seonghwa breathes out something that sounds like a _yes_ before kissing Yeosang again, open-mouthed and wet, as Yeosang digs his heels into the backs of Seonghwa’s thighs to press their hips together harder. Seonghwa trails his lips over Yeosang’s jawline and down his throat to bite at his collarbone. He knows he shouldn’t leave marks, but the way Yeosang tenses and cries out at the scrape of teeth against his neck makes Seonghwa want to spend hours marking him up. 

“Hyung, please,” Yeosang pants, grabbing Seonghwa’s ass and pulling him closer, “Want you to fuck me.”

Seonghwa is pretty sure he blacks out for a second at that. He manages to nod dumbly, though, and stands to locate Yeosang’s bag, digging through it to find a half-empty bottle of lube and a strip of condoms.

“Do you always carry lube and condoms in your bag?” Seonghwa asks as he drops back to his knees between Yeosang’s spread legs, tossing the items off to the side.

He has to hold back an incredulous laugh as somehow _that_ is what makes Yeosang shy, hands coming up to cover his face.

“Really? You were literally _just_ asking me to fuck you,” Seonghwa says as he pushes up Yeosang’s shirt, teasing his fingers over Yeosang’s sides.

“ _Hyung_ ,” Yeosang whines, pushing Seonghwa’s hands away from his ticklish ribs and hauling Seonghwa down by the front of his sweater to kiss him again, more teeth and tongue than lips, before pulling back. “I already _told_ you I’ve been watching you stare at me for weeks. I wanted to be prepared.”

_That_ makes Seonghwa take pause, suddenly flustered knowing that Yeosang was planning this, _thinking_ about this. Holy fuck. 

Yeosang notices, and giggles despite the blush still high on his own cheeks. He digs his heels into the backs of Seonghwa’s thighs and wiggles his hips impatiently. Seonghwa can feel how hard he is. “C’mon.”

Seonghwa figures he really should stop making him wait, so he pulls Yeosang’s shirt off completely before going for his track pants and boxers, maneuvering Yeosang out of everything before throwing them somewhere behind himself and reaching for the lube. His spills some out on the fingers of one hand, before placing the bottle off to the side and wrapping his other hand around Yeosang’s cock. Seonghwa marvels at the way Yeosang arches up towards the contact. He presses a slick finger to Yeosang’s hole and watches him tense.

“Is this okay?”

“ _Yes_ , hyung,” Yeosang wiggles his hips down against Seonghwa’s hand, and Seonghwa takes the hint, pressing in a finger until he gets to the knuckle. He keeps his other hand on Yeosang’s cock, stroking him slowly as Yeosang sighs and rocks himself up into the touch. Seonghwa watches him, mesmerized, as he works Yeosang open on one finger for a few moments before adding a second.

Seonghwa slows down his movements to let Yeosang adjust, but speeds up the hand he has around Yeosang’s cock, drawing a moan out of him. He suddenly regrets not taking off his own pants first, his own erection pressed uncomfortably against the fabric. He crooks his fingers and gently speeds up his movements to match the pace he’s stroking Yeosang’s cock, and watches as Yeosang’s breath catches on moans. Yeosang’s bangs are stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his lips are wet with spit. It is quite possibly the most erotic sight Seonghwa’s ever been treated to. His feverish shower fantasies can’t even hold a candle to the real thing.

Seonghwa presses in a third finger once Yeosang is pushing back against him. He reaches over with his other hand to grab the lube, drawing a whine from Yeosang who bucks his hips up at missing the touch, and sloppily drizzles more at the point where his fingers sink into Yeosang. It’s definitely a bit too much, lube dripping onto the floor and the slide of his fingers even louder, but whatever.

“Hold your legs back,” Seonghwa says. He can’t stop thinking about how he could just …fold Yeosang up and _damn_ if he doesn’t want to see Yeosang bent in half again, fucking himself back on Seonghwa’s fingers.

Yeosang nods, dazed, and reaches to hook his arms under his knees and pull his legs to his chest. (Seonghwa should’ve known Yeosang didn’t need any fucking help doing that stretch–but–whatever. He does not care. He is absolutely not capable of caring now, with Yeosang bent in half and watching his fingers disappear into Yeosang’s slick hole.)

Seonghwa watches Yeosang pant for a few moments before remembering to return his other hand to Yeosang’s cock. He fists it sloppily, trying to keep time with the thrusting of his fingers but not quite succeeding. It’s not like Yeosang’s complaining, though, eyes shut tight and rocking into Seonghwa’s hands.

“Ah, hyung, stop,” Yeosang whines out, and Seonghwa stops moving completely. “I’ll come if you keep going, please.” 

Seonghwa only manages to nod dumbly as he slides his fingers out and watches Yeosang’s lube-slicked rim clench around nothing. 

“Are you going to get naked?” Yeosang asks between heavy breaths, eyebrow raised.

Oh fuck, yeah, he’s still dressed. Seonghwa nods hurriedly and tugs off his hoodie, already uncomfortably sticking to his back with sweat. He moves to toss it somewhere in the direction of Yeosang’s discarded pants, but thinks twice and folds it before pushing it under Yeosang’s hips. The floor is uncomfortable, it seems like the least he can do. He ignores the way his heart jumps at the small smile Yeosang sends him at the action, and focuses on tugging down his track pants, finally, finally freeing his cock.

He doesn’t bother taking his pants off all the way, just shoving them down as far has he can before reaching for the condoms he tossed to the side earlier. He rips one of them open with the steadiest hands he can manage, before rolling the condom down his length and reaching for the lube to slick himself up.

Yeosang wraps his legs back around Seonghwa’s waist to pull him closer.

“Wait, actually, can we–” Seonghwa grabs Yeosang’s thigh and pushes back slightly, “Like this?”

Yeosang raises his eyebrows. “Wanna bend me in half again, hyung?”

“Jesus christ,” Seonghwa tips his head back and laughs incredulously. “Yeah, I really do.”

Yeosang laughs with him, though it’s breathless, and lifts his legs higher to hook over Seonghwa’s shoulders instead of around his waist, and Seonghwa groans. 

Seonghwa grabs Yeosang’s waist with one hand and the base of his cock with the other, moving forward to press against Yeosang’s hole. Yeosang whines impatiently at the contact, so Seonghwa finally pushes in, as slow as he can manage.

Seonghwa swears as he bottoms out. Yeosang is _so_ hot and tight around him. He pauses, catching his breath and letting Yeosang adjust. He pulls out to just the tip before slowly pressing back in.

“Hyung, come _on_ ,” Yeosang whines, fingers pressing hard into Seonghwa’s shoulders. 

Seonghwa doesn’t have the patience to even consider teasing right now, and pulls back to start fucking into Yeosang in earnest. He’s rewarded with Yeosang throwing his head back on a moan, and breathing little punched-out grunts on every thrust.

Seonghwa’s stomach flips every time he presses Yeosang’s thighs further back to his chest. God, how did he not realize Yeosang was this fucking flexible? He leans down, pressing Yeosang’s thighs back against his chest as Seonghwa kisses him again, sloppy. It’s hardly a kiss, really, just an uncoordinated slide of tongues against each other, but it’s filthy in the best way and made just that much better with how he can fold Yeosang up beneath him.

The slide of lube is loud in the practice room, now stuffy and hot as Seonghwa leans back to just look at Yeosang, hitching Yeosang’s legs back up over his shoulders. He’s gorgeous always, but especially like this, his eyes glazed over and bangs wet against his forehead with sweat. Seonghwa watches a drop of sweat roll down from Yeosang’s temple to his chin before disappearing behind his neck. His eyes track further down to Yeosang’s cock, hard and red and dripping onto his own stomach. Seonghwa groans at the sight, hips settling into a jerky rhythm as he digs his fingers into Yeosang’s thighs.

Seonghwa’s knees dig into the floor painfully, and a distant part of his brain registers that they are being _far_ too loud in case anyone else is in a neighboring room, but he doesn’t have the power to care about that right now. He’s only able to focus on the moans falling from Yeosang’s mouth and the tight feeling boiling low in his stomach.

“ _Hyung_ , Seonghwa hyung, I’m gonna come, please,” Yeosang moans, hands scratching up Seonghwa’s back.

“ _Yeah_ , it’s okay, I’m close, too,” Seonghwa tightens the grip of one hand on Yeosang’s thigh and manages to wedge the other hand between them, wrapping around Yeosang’s cock and stroking him off messily, uncoordinated.

“ _Fu–ck_ ,” Yeosang groans, before finally seizing up beneath Seonghwa as he comes, spilling hot over his stomach and Seonghwa’s hand with a cry. Seonghwa fucks him through it before slowing down, letting Yeosang catch his breath, but Yeosang is pressing his hips back against him just a moment later.

“Hyung, come for me, please,” Yeosang pants out.

Seonghwa feels his guts clench, tight feeling in his stomach starting to unravel, and he fucks into Yeosang faster, desperately, before he’s slamming his hips forward, _hard_ , and coming with a grunt that’s almost a growl and a few babbled noises that might be Yeosang’s name. He grinds his hips into Yeosang through the aftershocks.

Seonghwa stops once his brain is back online, planting his hands on the ground and trying to catch his breath, much like Yeosang who quietly pants beneath him and gingerly moves his legs off of Seonghwa’s shoulders to wrap around his waist. Seonghwa can’t help leaning forward to slot their lips together again, Yeosang’s mouth moving slow against his own, tongues lazily sliding past lips.

“That was… really good,” Seonghwa says as he pulls back, breaths still heavy.

Yeosang looks up at him coyly, hands tracing circles down Seonghwa’s back. “Yeah. Maybe we should stay late again sometime.”

Seonghwa is quietly proud of himself for not choking on his own spit at that as he nods. “Yes, yeah, we should,” He says, maybe a bit too quickly. It’s fine. He clears his throat. “So… do your hamstrings feel better?”

Yeosang cuffs him across the shoulder but laughs. “Oh my god, hyung,” Seonghwa lets himself chuckle along as Yeosang shoves him playfully. “Move.”

Seonghwa pulls out with a wince, pulling off the condom and tying the end before standing on shaky legs and sore knees. He ignores how grossly sticky he feels as he pulls his pants back up and retrieves his sweatshirt before locating the trashcan and disposing of the condom. (He thinks for a moment that maybe he should throw it out somewhere else, but who the fuck is going to look through the practice room trash? He picks up the bin and shakes the contents around for good measure, and pointedly ignores Yeosang’s laughter behind him.)

Yeosang has his pants pulled on and is wiping the come off of his stomach with his discarded shirt when Seonghwa turns back. Seonghwa cringes, but keeps his comments about cleanliness to himself as Yeosang stands and goes to rifle through his bag, producing a sweatshirt that he pulls on over his bare torso. Seonghwa tries not to stare.

“Ready?” Yeosang asks, hiking his bag up onto his shoulder. His face is still sweaty and faintly pink, and his sweatshirt is at least one size too large on him. He looks upsettingly adorable. There’s a purpling bruise just above his collarbone that makes Seonghwa blush despite himself.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Seonghwa says with a nod, grabbing his bag and heading for the door. 

Yeosang follows close behind, and falls into step next to him in the hall, slipping his hand into Seonghwa’s and holding tight. Seonghwa ignores the way his heart jumps in his chest.

“Hyung…” Yeosang starts, once they’re out of the building and headed towards the dorm. Seonghwa suddenly feels nervous about whatever conversation they’re about to have. He’s still riding the post-orgasm high and is absolutely not ready to deal with the swirl of emotions he feels right now. He braces himself. “Can I shower first?”

Seonghwa pauses for a moment before a startled laugh bubbles out of his throat. Stupid, _stupid_ brain psyching him out for nothing. “Of course, Yeosang-ah.”

Yeosang beams up at him, swinging their clasped hands between them, and Seonghwa manically thinks that he would say yes to anything Yeosang asked just to make him smile like that. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and hopes that the rational part of his mind kicks back on sometime soon. 

Yeosang keeps his hand in Seonghwa’s for the entirety of the short walk back to the dorm, and the warmth in Seonghwa’s chest at the feeling is enough to make him forget about the awkward conversation he’ll have to have if anyone is still awake when they arrive.

**Author's Note:**

> wow hope you enjoyed!!!!!!! this actually took ... waaaay longer than i thought it would LOL so i am glad it is finally Out In The World. seongsang makes me feel a whole lots of ways and so there will be some more !! hopefully fun !!! stuff coming (hopefully) soon too :>
> 
> shoutout to caw for always enabling me and an extra shoutout to evie because our chaotic horny dms are literally the reason this fic exists
> 
> as always you can come find me on twitter [@seonkhwas](https://twitter.com/seonkhwas)! my account is locked because i tweet out of pocket fanfic stuff at all hours of the day but do feel free to request and yell in my direction! or you can yell in my direction [on curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/seonkhwas) if u would like to be ~anonymous~
> 
> thanks for reading, hope u enjoyed! <3
> 
> p.s.: there's now a russian translation available here, courtesy of the wonderful [@elegantsaboteur](https://twitter.com/elegantsaboteur)


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